Gleek up, up and AWAY!
by FanFriends-2G
Summary: HOLY DC AND MARVEL COMICS, BATMAN! What the hell is going on? It appears as if the Glee kids are in a situation they never imagined they would be in... One day, one-by-one, they are all coming to find themselves with "hidden talents". set in season 2: 1-7
1. Prelude

How the hell did it come down to this? All the changes he had to adjust to, and in fact, making changes just to accommodate those changes. But… never mind, adjusting to the change wasn't really the biggest problem he had. The real million dollar question was: how the hell did these changes happen in the first place? It wasn't fair…

Ah, hell! Forget fair;

Fair had nothing to do with this. It wasn't even an issue right now!

"Why?" – that was the other real question in this situation. But there wasn't anything he could think of, any event that is, that could have caused this…

He tried to think back to three weeks ago, before this all started…

Nothing! He couldn't remember a damn thing!

Well, at least he could remember exactly when he got his super powers, even if he didn't know what caused them. –


	2. Chapter 1: The Mind Reader

The Mind Reader

One week after he had woken up from… whatever God forsaken accident it was that he couldn't quite remember; all he did remember was waking up surrounded by paramedics, and good ol' reliable Mr Shue; calling his name, desperately trying to bring him back to consciousness. –

"Finn, Finn!" He continued to call as he could see his student beginning to stir. "Can you hear me?"

It took a moment for the boy to answer, as his eyes and his conscious mind adjusted themselves; focusing back onto the surrounding world, known as reality.

"Wukarh'itmee?"

"What?" Mr Shue wrinkled his brow.

Finn realised he wasn't making any sense, so taking a deep breath, he coughed to clear whatever strain was on his voice, and tried again. –

"What-car…hit-me?"

The wrinkle in Mr Shue's brow shifted from confusion, to concern. If Finn had such a concussion that he sincerely thought he got hit by a car, not to mention couldn't form his sentences on the first go, then he was going to need a hospital.

"Erm… Finn, you're- in- the- auditorium; you- weren't- hit –by- a- car." He felt it was best to speak slowly and clearly for the poor guy right now.

Hearing this, Finn weakly observed his surrounding: Mr Shue, two other guys –well, one of them was a girl, actually, well, a woman, really – the hanging stage lights, the curtain and the piano, only a foot from behind him, where he rested his head. As he lay on the smooth, shiny black surface of the stage, the other two people that accompanied Mr Shue were apparently… err, touching him? What the hell! The lady was wrapping something around his arm and the guy who accompanied her was – Oh God, why couldn't she be doing that? –

"Mr Shuester, we're going to need to turn him, so we can sit him up," Said the man,

"Right, Finn;" Mr Shue looked to his student, "You're going to have to sit up."

"Werha?" he responded incoherently.

"Finn," the man brought his face into Finn's vision – he was wearing some sort of reflective looking blue jacket with silver band on each arms and a kinda star type symbol on his chest; a paramedic! That explains a lot… except for how he got to needing them in the first place. –

"I'm going to need you to roll over for me, ok?"

Finn paused, thinking the words over in an attempt to understand what he was supposed to do. Then slowly, still cautious, moved slightly, needing assistance to completely roll over. The paramedic held him when he got onto his right side. –

"That's fine, just hold on for a sec'." He got a hold of one arm and held Finn's head in his other hand. "Mr Shuester, can you take a hold of Finn's right arm for me?"

"Sure." Shue firmly gripped Finn's arm, careful not to be too rough with it, but not letting it hang loosely enough to cause problems either.

"Ok, we're going to lift him into a sitting-up position," he instructed, "Finn, we're going to sit you up, ok?"

"Ook…" He responded weakly.

Firmly, the teacher and the paramedic got him sitting up right. The other paramedic, after taking Finn's blood-pressure, took him gently by the chin and began to examine his pupils response. Having checked him over, the two paramedics moved on to the usual questions: where he'd been, what he'd eaten that day, what he'd had to drink, where he'd been when he started feeling unwell and when he'd begun to get dizzy.

After his head finally started to pull itself together, he managed to answer them all.

It still didn't answer his own questions though; the answers he gave to the paramedics-

The places he'd been, what he'd eaten- Though he did recall having the remains of a spoiled, what he reckoned was, "at least", two weeks old sandwich he found in his locker, which really didn't taste all _that_ bad! Ok, it had, kind of a funky smell, but, hey! It had salami! And last he checked, salami didn't go off! Well, according to Joey of _friends_ anyway- He didn't drink anything weird, despite the paramedics suggesting he might have gotten his hands on some sort of alcohol. As for when he started to feel weird, well… Miss Pillsbury's office… That's right! He had offered – well, had been told to – help clean her office (a good ol' fashion top-to-bottom scrub down!) as part of his detention duty. Don't ask. It's a long story involving the Glee club's take on a few songs from Moulin Rouge, with Rachel rehearsing her chosen song to him. (He really couldn't remember what it was, and, to be honest, he really didn't care, thanks to a very skimpy burlesque outfit she chose as her costume). Anyway, the whole thing finished with Sue Sylvester catching them alone and, well… that's really all you need to know! Where were we? Oh yeah:

He had started to feel strange in Miss Pillsbury's office, and knew it had to be one of two things; that sandwich from his locker, or the smell of the chemicals from the cleaning supplies he was using. But he did remember saying that he didn't feel well when Miss Pillsbury asked if he was feeling ok (he must have been really sick if she had noticed something was wrong).

"I'm gonna, go outside for some air..." He had stated groggily.

And after that… he can't remember how, but all he knows is that somehow he found himself leaving Miss Pillsbury's office, and ending up on the stage of the auditorium. (And no, it wasn't a musical fantasy!) It was then that he started to feel really weird; he felt sick to his stomach and woozy at the same time. His head started to feel light at the same time when the room began to tip on its axel. Just before he passed out, he remembered someone calling his name, as he felt himself crumble into gravity's pull, crashing to his knees then slide sideways and finally laying still. Later, he found out it was Mr Shue; arriving in the auditorium, thankfully, at the same time.

He thought about every last detail of what happen to him that week before the change happened, until his brain finally started to hurt. (He was surprised his brain had lasted that long on thinking about one subject with so much detail.) But then again, his brain, every corner of his head, even his entire body for that matter had been hurting. Well, not as bad now as it did, but defiantly ever since he got these powers: three weeks and counting.

But back to that _one_ week, one week after his little, "accident" if you wanna call it that, when things stared to change, but more to the point, when **he** started to change…

It started off pretty normal; the day that is, and things were going fairly smoothly. He drifted through his classes as he normally did; not really paying attention. Football practise was back-braking, bullet-sweating work, as usual. As far as the day was going, it all seemed normal. It wasn't until after third period that he started to… well, this is how it went:

He was walking from his third class to his fourth, off in his own world; not really thinking about much, just small things:

"_Got to be back before six; Mom needs me to pick some stuff from the market – I wonder if Kurt and Burt are coming over tonight – Kurt seemed a little quiet today in Spanish class, like, "thinking" quiet. Not that he doesn't think, but it seemed like something was wrong. Maybe I should talk to him. - For a gay guy, Kurt's kinda cute. I wonder if he'd be willing to- __**WHOA**__!" _Right there! At that exact thought and beyond, that is when things started to get strange. –

"_Where, __**the hell**__, did that come from!" _he wondered to himself. He **never** thinks about Kurt that way; _**never has and never will**_. Especially now, considering, despite the obvious fact that he's not gay, but Kurt was practically his brother now! (Sure they're not related in blood or anything, but he was pretty sure that bedding someone who was practically you stepsibling was second-degree incest. _**Gross**_!)

It was really strange… in fact, it was the definition of strange; that thought seemed to have just come out of nowhere. But, now that he thought about it, it felt like it just slipped into his own thoughts; literally. He remembered how he felt a very small sensation. Small, but still enough to feel it. –

It was warm and… soft. It was like, how could he describe it? I guess he could say it almost felt like something comforting, like someone was hugging him from the inside. And then, it started to feel slightly tingly, as did every other feeling after that. They all seemed to come with a tingly after-sensation. Oh yes, kids! That mildly lust feeling he got wasn't the only random emotion to creep into him. –

Almost immediately after that, he found himself craving pizza with pineapples – _pizza with pineapples; Honest to God, was there a weirder creation? _ But all of a sudden, he had a hankering for them. This random craving was accompanied by a thought of – _I wonder when lunch is. Hope the caf's serving up my favourite: Pineapple pizza, just like dad made when I was a kid. It probably won't be a good though_. –

His dad? His dad was dead. No, it wasn't his dad he was thinking about. But, how could he think a random though about a food he didn't like along with a dad that wasn't his?

Now, contrary to popular belief, Mr Hudson wasn't as stupid as people often thought he was. Because if he was certain about one thing, when all the following, unrelated thoughts came flying at him, flowing into him, it's that they weren't his. No, his instinct was truly right on this; those thoughts, were not his own….

"Red, it there a worse colour for me? - I wonder when the party is. -This new hair gel sucks. - Ahh! Like, that zit cream did NOT work! I'm breaking out! -I've got to ace that final, or no xbox for a month… I screwed! -I can't believe he had the nerve to say that to me; ass-hole! - Hmm, that girl's kinda cute, when she's mad. Wonder if that ass-hole dumbed her. Maybe I should see- My mom's so stubborn! Why can't she understand me! - Ok, ok, just go up to him, and explain- Lala la-la, lala la-la, hey hey, hey! ARGH! Can't get this studpid song outta my head! -

Why's he staring at me? – Dude, my head. I shouldn't have taken those tequila shots as a dare last night. – I wonder what that cutie in my English class thinks about me. –

Bum, babalum, babalum, babalum, bum, Whoopee! Bum, babalum, babalum,babalum; I'm gonna get some ass! – I wonder what's for dinner tonight. – I wish I had more time on this; my teacher's going to kill me when she founds out –Santana's such a whore! I don't know what guys see in her, especially Puck! Oh, Puck…- Hope my parents don't find out about the party this weekend. – OhMyGod, OhMyGod, OH-MY-GOD! I missed my period, AGAIN! How did this happen? I, oh wait, what's that wet feeling in my… Oh, never mind! Phew! –

Dumb jocks! Why do they always have to slushie me? Or anybody for that matter? Ass-holes! - Fruit pie! –Push ups –What about- How do I- What's wrong with-

The hell? Why would – Oh God, what am I going to do when –

Whip cream, strawberries, I think I've got –

How I'm a going to explain the theory of-

Geez, Louise! - WHOA! Where did that–

I'm hopeless…- I need to get-

Wish my parents would-

When is- Oh man-

I just want to-

Why don't-

When-

What-


	3. Chapter 2: The Ghost

The Ghost

It had started as a perfectly normal day for Kurt, well, almost anyway. He hadn't ended up in the dumpster, for once, but everything else remained the same, slushies were aimed in his direction at least twice - simultaneously. After changing his outfit, he took one last inspection upon his face; _Looks fairly clean… needs moisturiser_.

Now, Kurt wasn't one to switch between different brands of moisturiser too frequently, (not good for general skin health) but this new one, he had come across it at his favourite boutique in the mall while shopping one weekend. After just applying a dab to his finger to test it, he found that not only the test area on his hand was much more supple, but so was the tip of his finger from just touching it; without even rubbing it in! (Impressive, and it left his skin ten times softer then the cream he was already using.) After replacing the new product with the old one, he discovered that his skin was softer; FAR softer then usual, (almost eerily soft, like, the skin of a one year old couldn't compare to this: this was a new born's skin.) and this was after his full moisturising routine, which did say a lot; It told him that he might want to change his routine a little bit; if the new cream could do that all on it's own, then the rest was just redundant. (Unless you wanted to get into the Guinness World Book of Records for having the world's softest skin in your teens'.)

After rejuvenating the freshly clean canvas of his complexion, he emerged from the bathroom, with his head held high as he strutted towards his first class of the day.

Between classes, and breaks, everything else went nice and smoothly, he was happy to say. It wasn't until shortly after lunch that… it happened:

"Hey Lady!" was the second greeting he had received from Azimio that day, and his first real warning to run before it was too late.

"Oh, perfect." Kurt sighed. He decided that one harassment a day was his limit, so with out a response, he turned away from his locker and began to walk in opposite direction. He knew that if he faced them again he wasn't likely to leave with his sanity in tact. His flight or fight response was naturally to fly as far away from the crap-storm as possible. However, it was not going to be that easy, of course; Azimio was pretty much your typical dumb-ass.

"HEY! Don't walk away while I'm talkin' to you!" The bully pursued.

Kurt rolled his eyes, sighing quietly to himself, why didn't things ever go right when he needed to leave?

"Oh, I'm sorry… I didn't realise you owned me." Was Kurt's dry retort when he decided that enough was enough; he turned on his heels to face the bully.

"Well, with all due respect," replied Azimio's tweedle-dumb: a.k.a Karofsky, "We really couldn't afford you!"

Azimio's roaring laughter could be heard from corridor to corridor, and, knowing him, he'd be heard in Seattle and Montana too.

In retrospect, the boy really should have seen that coming; his own choice of words betrayed him in his "witty" response.

"What, you buy many man-whores lately? I never realised that was your preferred taste." He did realise this, of course. He just didn't feel it was his business "Outing" Karofsky (and he's not just saying that because his death threat scared him to pieces). Anyway, continuing:

Kurt realised his words may be betraying him more then he realised, as he, metaphorically, began to sign his own death warrant.

"Wot chu say, homo?" Barked Azimio.

"Oh, I'm not implying anything," he replied smoothly, lying completely by this point and, daringly, blanking Karofsky despite the glare and mouthed words 'Shut UP!'-

"I just find it peculiar how your friend seems to know how much I'm worth; which, in some respects, is more than you anyway!"

And that was game over.

_Crap… Bad idea!_

"Oh, _that's it_… **YOU BETTA HAUL THAT SKINNY **_**ASS OF YOURS!**_"

Kurt didn't need any more of a hint then that-

With a hard swallow, he turned and, without a second thought, ran like merry hell.

What felt like five minutes of running, was probably only a minute and a half. He sprinted down the halls, turning corner after corner, with the two oafish jocks following; surprisingly close. He knew that he had gone too far, the minute he had opened his mouth. He should have walked away like he intended to, they probably would have left him alone once they realised they weren't going to get a response out of him. Now, Kurt was praying wildly that someone, hell, even Coach Sylvester, would stop this madness, and soon. Otherwise, he was a dead man running right now...

Well, he supposes he should be grateful; if it wasn't for his newfound abilities, he probably would have been driven to the hospital in pieces, or worse, he'd be a pale smudge on a wall. He may not have known what caused his powers to come into existence, but he will never forget how and where they first came to him:

It was on the final turning he made-

He had managed to pick up his pace enough to get some space to think about his next move. Granted, his next move wasn't his greatest idea; but he decided to look back _before_ he stopped, and when he turned back… a wall greeted him.

'_NO. Not now_!' he thought desperately. As he instinctively shut his eyes and put up his arms in defence, the actual impact came as quite a shock, but not for the reasons one would expect:

Before the hit of the wall, came the sensation of falling, and then… well, that's not right. With his eyes still shut, he felt as though he had fallen, and then hit the floor. But… wasn't he just inches away from the wall at the end of the hallway? What the… he wasn't in one of Finn's damn comic books, right? He was dead, surely… or… no. No, that wasn't real.

When he opened his eyes, his first realisation was that he had landed on the floor, but as he looked at his surroundings, which he observed had become darker and more closed in as opposed to the brightly lit and white tiled hallway, he found that… well, that was just it; he wasn't in the hallway anymore –

Judging by the contents of the room: boxes, film projectors, lighting equipment and cameras from hand-held-for-amateurs to professional, he made a educated guess that he was in the A.V club's supply closet. _How _was he here? _WHY _was he here, and worse, what the HELL was he going to do about the jokes when he left?

Groggily, he turned onto his back, following his natural curiosity to face the wall that should be behind him, or at least see where he had fallen from. It was… Oh… HELL! He was going insane!

There was the wall indeed, but… as logic would dictate, there should have been a hole where he fell through. Well, he was at least certain that he fell through the wall… but…

How he had managed to do it with the wall, and he, still in one piece was… Impossible. This just could not be real!

But there - in the wall, was his proof that… he was, or had become part of an unnatural phenomenon.

Well, he recognised this long after the event, but he does recall at the time, all he could think of was the fact that one of his favourite jackets was hanging from the wall; half in, half out. –

It had, somehow, gotten stuck in the wall, and… it looked as though it had morphed into said wall; becoming a part of it!

Though, it was hard for him to take it all in at the time. And, some where on an instinctive level – on both survival and fashion (survival to avoid going insane and fashion because… well, come on! Does that one really need explaining?) – All he could acknowledge, was the fact that he had now lost one of his favourite coats and there was no chance of getting it back, because he didn't know how it got stuck there in the first place!

All he could do, was mutter mournfully at the loss of his elegant white mini trench:

"_**This coat is Dior**_!"


End file.
